


Stunt Class

by fiercy, jennandanica



Series: Citadel: Chris Hemsworth and Henry Cavill [1]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Citadel (Journalfen RPG), Superman RPF, Thor (Movies) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 16:00:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6526723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiercy/pseuds/fiercy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Chris Hemsworth/Henry Cavill storyline in the BDSM RPS RPG <a href="http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read">Citadel</a>. If you're interested in joining, please contact the mods as listed <a href="http://citadel-info.dreamwidth.org/995.html#cutid1">here</a>.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Stunt Class

**Author's Note:**

> This is a re-posting (archiving) of all logs for the Chris Hemsworth/Henry Cavill storyline in the BDSM RPS RPG [Citadel](http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read). If you're interested in joining, please contact the mods as listed [here](http://citadel-info.dreamwidth.org/995.html#cutid1).

He's quite certain he's not been this sore in his life: not after his emergency appendectomy when he was eight, not even after his fall from his horse last year when they were flying across a field mach two with their hair and mane on fire. He's pretty damn sure that this kind of sore goes straight through to the marrow. Not even when he'd left Citadel with head to toe bruises has he felt like this. But Henry shows nothing of it, save for walking slower than usual, and the fact that he's turning pale each time he turns wrong.

They're all sore. It comes with learning the proper way to fall onto your back into one hundred boxes from a height of twenty feet.

With all his bravado and stoicism over pain, Henry can't stop the groan that rises from pleasure when the icy water he's drinking hits the back of his parched throat.

"That must be some water," Chris jokes, dropping in beside Henry. They haven't spoken more than a word or two during class so far but Chris has definitely noticed the other man. Noticed _Charles Brandon_ and the future _Superman_ the moment he walked in the room.

"This? This water must have been touched by the God's." Yes, yes, that's for _Thor's_ benefit, he admits it. Grinning he holds up the other bottle he'd picked up. "I'll share."

Chris grins back. "Thanks." He takes the bottle and cracks it open, groaning for show as he pours half down his throat. "I think you're right." He smiles at Henry. "Want to grab some lunch? I thought I'd grab a burger at that place around the corner."

 _Only if you plan to smile a lot._ Henry gives him a nod instead of getting himself into real trouble voicing his thoughts. He deserves that burger as a reward for not letting his eyes wander from the top of Chris' blond head down to the tips of his . . . . He arrests that thought, as well, to keep from really embarrassing himself. "That sounds great. It's hungry work jumping out of perfectly firm structures."

Chris laughs. "Yeah, it is," he agrees, heading first through the door and holding it open for Henry. They can walk to the burger place. "So, are you doing this class for _Superman_ or just in general?" he asks, downing the last of the water and crushing the bottle in his fist.

"Thanks," he says as he edges past. Not easy. Chris is a very big man. "It was brought to my attention after casting, but I was chuffed to hear about it, so a little of both, I suppose. I'm already signed up for the next one. Must be a masochist, I suppose." _Well aren't you cute, Henry, playing word games with yourself..._ He can't help but look at that thoroughly crushed bottle, filing away the image for later. When he's alone.

"Either that or a glutton for punishment." Chris grins, glancing casually over at Henry as they walk. The guy is really gorgeous and Chris can't remember the last time he was so attracted to someone, but he's also a no-no. A huge one, according to Chris's code. "Oh wait, same thing, right?"

 _Glutton for punishment. What a good way to put it._ "I've heard tell that's true," Henry counters, his eyes focused on the sidewalk. All the better to take sidelong glances at those _boots_. He's fairly certain he just had a spiritual moment. Too bad he can't mention it. Ah well, in a perfect world . . .

"Here we go," Chris says, pulling the door open and motioning for Henry to go first. "It's just a hole in the wall, but my brother said the food's really good." He grins and nods at the girl at the counter, taking a moment to read over the menu above her head. "Um. I'll have the double burger, fries, chocolate milkshake."

The girl nods, giving them both a fairly subtle double-take. She gets celebrities all the time. They just usually aren't this pretty. Or _big_. "Eight thirty-two, please."

Henry stands back, waiting while Chris and . . . he glances at her name tag . . . Billie (Really? There are still Billies left in Hollywood?) finishes up. It gives him time to study Chris, taking in the easy confidence in his stance, and the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles.

When it's his turn, Henry orders a miniature version of Chris's lunch, with one other change. "Regular burger, small fry and a vanilla milkshake, please." He glances at Chris and grins. "I've always been a vanilla guy." _Henners, it's time to quit with the double entendre even if you're the only one who knows you're doing it. Really. It is._ Henners probably won't listen.

"That so?" Chris says with a smile, his thoughts definitely going where they shouldn't. "How's your girlfriend feel about that?" he teases, punching Henry on the shoulder to emphasize he's just kidding.

Henry just laughs. "Who has time for _that_?" Nope. He restricts himself to the best kept secret in the world.

"Not me, that's for sure," Chris says, adding napkins, a straw and a couple packets of salt to his tray. 

"I do have two special males in my life, though," Henry follows up, adding a napkin and straw to his tray as well. "Charlie and Bomber." 

"Yeah? Who are they?" Chris asks, picking up his tray when the girl sets their meals out.

He's not sure exactly why he needs the grounding--or maybe it's the cover he needs--but Henry is happy to have the solid weight of the tray in his hands, and the barrier to sight of his crotch. "My parrot and dog."

He follows Chris to the table of his choosing and settles in. "Only reversed. Charlie's the dog."

"And Bomber's the parrot." Chris nods, taking a sip of his milkshake. He smiles. "What do you do with them when you're away?" he asks, unwrapping his burger.

"When I'm going to be wherever I'm going longer than a week or so, I take them with me. They both have the equivalent of pet passports that covers here and Europe. Shorter than that or if I'm going to be in a location that would be problematic, I have various pet sitters I use. It's a terrible pain in the arse having animals when you travel so much, but they're worth it," he says with a fond smile, unwrapping his burger as he speaks.

"I wouldn't mind having a dog," Chris says, "but I didn't even know you could get them passports." He grins, taking a bite of his burger. "Mm. So, where do you consider home?"

"Well, home now is more often here than there. _Home_ , home is Jersey, in the Channel Islands? UK Jersey, not New Jersey. I'm sure I don't have the complexion for New Jersey."

Chris laughs. "You don't really have the complexion for L.A. either," he says, although with half the blokes out here it's all fake anyway.

"You know," Henry says with a thoughtful wave of a fry, "you make a very good point. Bloody huge and also intelligent. A man to watch," he says with a solemn nod.

Chris laughs again. '"It's all just smoke and mirrors," he jokes, taking another bite of his burger.

The next bite of his burger bursts over Henry's tongue and he tries--he really does!--to quell the moan that results. He's mostly successful, but not fully, which unfortunately produces a sound more like a grunt than an expression of ecstasy. "God, this is good," he quickly states, hoping to cover.

"I know, right?" Chris agrees, taking a long sip of his milkshake, the twitch of his cock at that sound something he's determined to ignore. "So, what do you do when you're between jobs and not jumping from buildings?"

"I've got a passion for languages. I'm always taking classes or immersed in recordings or my Rosetta Stone tapes, then I turn around and teach Bomber. I like riding--horses, that is--and if I'm in some place safe I combine the whole language thing with that. I like long walks on the beach and rain at sunset," he glances up, figuring his eyes are sparkling behind his deadpan expression.

"And candlelight conversations on the merits of French film?" Chris suggests, biting back a smile before he gives up and starts laughing. "Nice one, mate."

Laughing with him, Henry wrinkles his nose and shakes his head just the same. "Pretentious, all of it." Chris's laugh could become addictive. _**Stop** it, Henry! What the hell are you thinking!?_

Chris takes a sip of his milkshake and pops a fry in his mouth. "What about surfing? I've heard Jersey has some of the best surfing in the UK?"

Henry's quiet for a moment, then leans forward a bit across the table. "Normally I don't tell someone this until I know them much better. It's terribly tragic, I'm afraid. I'm . . . surf challenged." He sighs heavily, as if he's just revealed some hideous secret.

Chris laughs again. Henry's really funny and it's not something he would've expected at all. "Yeah? Never had the right teacher or just hate it?"

"You know, I never thought to blame it on the teacher," Henry answers, a smile blooming. "What a great idea."

"I could take you out some time if you're interested," Chris offers, trying to keep his gaze on Henry as casual as possible. "I've been told I'm a good instructor."

Again with the deadpan expression. "Do you know CPR?" Henry gives it a beat, then grins and sits backs, relaxing. Chris is so laid back it's easy to do just that. "Seriously, we could give it a shot but I've shown absolutely no aptitude for that particular sport whatsoever." Still, if it means Chris in a swimsui . . . _Balls, Cavill, you're so far in the closet you can see Narnia. Hiding your dick in a swimsuit?! Abort!_ "Body surfing, however, I'm decent at. Comes with the art of falling _off_ the surfboard." _What the hell, you can never have too many friends._

Chris chuckles and sucks down the last of his milkshake. "What about pool? Do you play?"

"I have spent many a night doing just that. Love the game. I love the ocean too, by the way. All aspects of it. I'm just not good at standing up on it. Put me on a jet ski, though . . . " He points a finger at Chris. "I'll kick your arse."

"You wish," Chris retorts but he's grinning, obviously delighted at the challenge. "Let's start with pool and a pint though. If you're free tonight?"

For a moment, Henry is struck by the dichotomy of the way he chooses to live his life. It's less stressful, only sleeping with men within the net of safety Citadel house doms offer. On the other hand, it means moments like this will forever be just about two mates getting together for a pint rather than the experience of being asked out that he craves. Still . . . you can never have too many friends . . . . "That sounds great. I'm going to need a drink to dull the pain if we do any more actual work today," he adds dryly.

"Wimp," Chris teases, grinning, although god knows, he's hurting too.

Grinning, Henry raises his milkshake cup. "Yeah, well. I still show up."

Chris laughs. "True." Scrunching all his wrappers into a ball. He glances at his watch. "I guess we should head back."

Henry's glance at his own watch is mostly reflexive, and he nods and follows suit with gathering trash, as well. "Lead the way." This time, Henry nips even the hint of a thought of Chris leading in any other way than back to class before it can wiggle in and translate to fantasy. Time to embrace the friendship.


End file.
